


take a deep breath, shoulder it

by RonnieSilverlake



Series: divine bones [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gavin Reed is a Mess, Gen, Good Parent Hank Anderson, Shoplifting, Whumptober 2020, Young Gavin Reed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:08:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26860429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonnieSilverlake/pseuds/RonnieSilverlake
Summary: 17-year-old Gavin Reed has a run-in with law enforcement.(Whumptober day 1:shackled)
Relationships: Hank Anderson & Gavin Reed
Series: divine bones [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1959496
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	take a deep breath, shoulder it

Gavin leans against the car door and exhales heavily. No matter how hard he thinks, he doesn’t see any way to get out of this. Fucking  _ hell _ , he really screwed up, didn’t he?!

The worst part isn’t even how awfully his bad shoulder burns. He can deal with that. He’s dealt with worse. No, the thought that does him in is that some of the  _ worse _ is yet to come.

He fidgets a little as he sits, enough for the arresting officer to glance back at him in the rear view mirror, and scoff. “Don’t even think about making a wrong move, kid.”

“’S not like I can, anyway, with the fuckin’ cuffs all tight ‘n cozy,” Gavin grumbles under his breath, only to be ignored again. The asshole couldn’t even be bothered to cuff him in front of his chest for the drive; his hands are wedged uncomfortably between the seat and the back of his waist, cold metal digging into his skin where his shirt has ridden up a little.

He fidgets again, trying to ease the pressure in his shoulder. There’s only so many times your arm can get wrenched behind your back before the tendons nope out, and even though most of those times were years ago, the damage seems to have been enough for his current position to reignite the echoes of pain—bringing everything else with it and miring Gavin in a swamp of bitter feelings.

The cop doesn’t speak again until they’re nearly at the police station. He eyes Gavin in the mirror, expression sour. Gavin has already gotten a tongue lashing from him as he was stuffed into the car; he can guess what the dark look is saying.  _ Good for nothing, lazy kid, burden on his hard-working parents. _ It’s all familiar.

“You’re underage, and you don’t have anything on your record, so you’ll get off with a warning this time,” the cop finally says, and even though the words should be reassuring, all they bring is a sense of dreadful foreboding. “But you’re still gonna sit in a holding cell until your parents turn up. Maybe it’ll teach you a lesson about shoplifting.”

Gavin’s stomach sinks so hard he feels like he’s ready to throw up. He turns his head away from the cop’s piercingly scrutinizing gaze, and stares out the window, fighting back the sudden urge to cry. He thinks of his dad’s look of furious disappointment. His mom’s quiet heartbreak.

He’d rather be charged, honestly.

The holding cell is warm, at least. After three days of sleeping outside, it’s a tiny slice of heaven, even if there is a heavy price to be paid for it. Gavin huddles in the corner of the bed, knees pulled up to his chest, trying his best to ignore how exposed he feels behind the glass wall, visible to anyone who happens to pass by on the other side, like a goddamn zoo animal.

When the cell door slides open, Gavin stiffens, trying instinctively to make himself smaller, unobtrusive, invisible.

It’s a different cop this time; his badge says Detective, and his expression says—something Gavin cannot quite parse, but it’s different from the previous guy, different enough to make him slightly unfurl, especially when the Detective opts to sit down on the edge of the bed, facing away from him as he speaks.

“It’s really none of my business why you ran away, personally, but… Y’know, we’re mainly here to  _ help _ people, right? Arresting bad guys is only a tiny part of the job, and you really don’t seem to me like a bad guy. You seem like a bright kid that’s trying to deal with some shit happening. And you don’t gotta do that alone.”

Gavin feels like he just had hot water poured on him. His eyes burn. He pulls his knees close to his chest again, as if it’ll help him reel his composure back in as well. He lets out a weak huff, aiming it to be a laugh, but it comes out far too choked. “What would  _ you _ know?”

“I know how to make it stop,” the Detective says, his voice low and patient. “But I can only do that when people let me know what’s happening. So I can protect them.”

The concept is entirely new, and yet, at the same time, it feels more familiar than what Gavin can explain to himself. He struggles to wrap his head around it, but luckily, the other doesn’t push.

He doesn’t yet know, today, just how much his life’s direction has changed irrevocably. But he does realize, even if he can’t quite put it in words, that his dad’s hand on his shoulder as he leads Gavin outside feels less heavy than usual while Gavin holds onto the card reading  **Hank Anderson** in the secret of his pocket.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at [New ERA](https://discord.gg/GqvNzUm) to yell at me about sad ratmen in pain.


End file.
